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Chapters (61)
  1. Prologue
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. Chapter Thirty-Four
  36. Chapter Thirty-Five
  37. Chapter Thirty-Six
  38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  41. Chapter Forty
  42. Chapter Forty-One
  43. Chapter Forty-Two
  44. Chapter Forty-Three
  45. Chapter Forty-Four
  46. Chapter Forty-Five
  47. Chapter Forty-Six
  48. Chapter Forty-Seven
  49. Chapter Forty-Eight
  50. Chapter Forty-Nine
  51. Chapter Fifty
  52. Chapter Fifty-One
  53. Chapter Fifty-Two
  54. Chapter Fifty-Three
  55. Chapter Fifty-Four
  56. Chapter Fifty-Five
  57. Chapter Fifty-Six
  58. Epilogue
  59. Author’s Note
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author

Felipe Sousa drank in the surroundings. As the leading artist in his field, he knew he deserved the very best of everything. He strolled through the spectacular marble-floored lobby and made his way directly to the check-in desk. The enthusiastic blonde receptionist confirmed his booking and, after the usual paperwork, handed across the key card to one of the hotel’s most expensive suites.

“Señor Sousa, I believe there is an item of luggage waiting for you at the concierge desk. Would you like it brought up to your suite?”

Sousa shook his head and smiled back at the receptionist. “No, thank you. I’d rather take it up myself.”

* * *

Paz logged back on to the sporting website, clicked on the live chat icon and typed in a short message. I can confirm the medal needs to be ready for collection at precisely eleven thirty on Monday morning.

This time he didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Understood.

Paz logged off his computer and poured himself a straight scotch. He wondered if the hitman was already in the city.

* * *

Having replied to his anonymous employer, The Ghost switched off his iPad and turned his attention to the large black suitcase sitting at the bottom of his four-poster bed. He entered three numbers into the combination lock and flipped open the lid. Inside were some neatly folded cotton shirts, along with a pair of cream chinos and some Hugo Boss underwear. Sousa carefully removed the items and placed them on the bed, alongside the case. It only took him a few moments to locate the small catch that released the false bottom. Inside the secret compartment was a neatly folded white medical jacket, a steel stethoscope and a plastic lanyard displaying false credentials.

For now, none of that was of interest. His eyes were firmly fixed on the four neatly packaged components, the parts of a long-range sniper rifle. The SAKO TRG 42 was manufactured in Finland and regarded by most experts as the finest in the world. This particular version had a sound suppressor and an effective range of eleven hundred metres, giving him a cushion of one hundred metres more than he needed. It had a manually operated bolt action and chambered Lapua Magnum cartridges that could comfortably penetrate a solid concrete wall. One round would be more than enough to take a human life.

Chapter Twenty-Three

15 January 2012

Buenos Aires